Page 138 of Ghosts Don't Cry
Standing in the living room—Ronan’sliving room—I can almost see the ghosts of our younger selves. The dreams we whispered to each other in the dark of that factory, the futures we imagined between stolen kisses and shared warmth. All of it here, made real in hardwood floors and built-in bookshelves, in morning light streaming through windows that still need replacing.
I move deeper into the room and trail my fingers along one empty shelf, feeling the smoothness of the wood that’s waiting to hold stories.
“He really listened to everything I said, didn’t he?”
“Yeah.” Ronan’s voice is rough behind me.
The enormity of what Harris did hits me all at once. He didn’t just leave Ronan a house. He left him theexacthouse we used to dream about. The one place that might actually make him want to stay.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I take it out, checking the messages. The reminder shatters the moment like glass.
School board meeting. One hour.
Reality crashes back in. Beverly Walsh will be there, waiting with another carefully crafted narrative she’s developed about my fitness to teach.
Ronan must see something in my expression because he steps closer. “What is it?”
“The board meeting.” My stomach twists, nausea rising. “It’s in an hour. I should go back home and change.”
“I can drive you.” He pauses, uncertainty crossing his face. “Actually, that’s a bad idea. Of course I shouldn’t. It’ll just make things worse for you.”
And there it is. A crossroads. I can go home, change into something professional, and arrive at school alone like I’m ashamed of being seen with him. Or …
“I’d like that … if you don’t mind giving me a ride, I mean.”
His eyebrows lift slightly. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.” And Iam. I’m done hiding. I’m done letting Beverly Walsh and her particular brand of small-town morality dictate my choices. “I’m not ashamed of being seen with you, Ronan. I never was.”
A mix of things flash across his face—surprise, maybe hope—before he can hide it. But before either of us can say anything more, movement catches my eye through the window. There’s a man standing on the neighboring porch. He sees me looking and waves, then disappears inside his house.
Ronan sighs, but the sound isn’t so much irritated as resigned. “Tom doesn’t believe in boundaries.”
A moment later, the front door opens again. Tom appears, crossing the yard between the two houses with surprising speed for his age.
The older man flashes Ronan a grin when he opens the door and lets himself in.
“Well, this is interesting.” He looks from Ronan to me. “Didn’t take long, did it?”
“We were just leaving.” I check my phone again. The board meeting looms closer. “I have to be somewhere?—”
“To hear your fate from our favorite judge?” He laughs at my surprised look. “How long have you lived in this town? You can’t be surprised that everyone knows everything.” His expression turns more serious. “That’s why I came over, actually. I have something for you.”
He takes an envelope out of his back pocket and hands it to me.
“Take that with you. Give it to Beverly. But only if things get bad. If she leaves you with no other choice, or you think you’re going to lose your job.”
I take it, frowning at the weight. “What is it?”
His smile holds an edge. “Insurance, for when Beverly starts rewriting history to suit whatever story she wants to spin.”
He walks out of the house with us, and stops beside the car, leaning forward when I settle into the passenger seat. “Make sure you take that envelope into the meeting with you, Lily. Don’t leave it in the car.”
He slams the door, and bangs on the roof, and Ronan reverses off the driveway. We pause at my place so I can take a shower and change into something more suitable than the jeans and T-shirt I was wearing, and then we head back out.
The drive to school passes too quickly. When Ronan pulls into the parking lot, my eyes find the classroom where I’ve spent the last year teaching. My hands are shaking, and I press them flat against my thighs.
“Do you want me to wait, or get out of here before someone sees me?”
